


Ground to stand on (with you)

by snofeey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, Shiro's black humor, can we talk about Shiro's behaviour?, lowkey mutual pining, nobody piss off Pidge, the Lions know all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:42:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10189169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snofeey/pseuds/snofeey
Summary: “How do you feel about it all?” Shiro asked. “The being part-Galra.”Keith shrugged. “At first, I didn’t want to believe it. Especially with those nightmares. But now? Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Trying to think about it like being Asian. Affects what I look like, not who I am.”Shiro smiled. “You’re amazing, you know that? Not everyone would be able to say that.”--There had been too much revealed by the Blade of Marmora for anyone to be comfortable with. Keith's disappeared, Shiro's wondering how to apologize, and Allura's furious. But a late night has Shiro and Keith working through fears and worries, lingering anxieties, and the fear that this new revelation brought with it, and in the end, they stand taller for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this was, in part, inspired by this analysis of s2e8, which solved a number of problems I had with the episode: http://heero-yuy.tumblr.com/post/156227784540/shiro-and-keith-the-most-touching-character

Telling everyone had been hard, even though he’d gotten it out as fast as he could, explained it all, what he did and did _not_ know, so there’d be no questions that, ultimately, he couldn’t answer.

He’d been worried about Pidge; the Galra had taken her family from her, and it wouldn’t matter that Shiro had accepted Keith’s mixed blood, no concerns whatsoever. He was trying to not doubt Shiro’s acceptance, believe the words, trust his actions. He really didn’t want to hear Lance’s bad jokes, and Hunk tended to latch onto things and obsess (it was the anxiety, and normally Keith didn’t hold it against him, or tried not to, but fuck could he do without it right now). He was worried, for some reason, about disappointing Coran.

And he was _terrified_ as hell at what the Princess would think. Even before her face shut down in fury and betrayal. Even before he had aimed Red for the castle, Kolivan and Antok in tow. Before he even got in Red, processing the ramifications of the knife’s awakening as he calmed his Lion down and as Shiro pacified the irate Blades of Marmora.

He had known it wouldn’t go well, that saying such would be the understatement of the year. Fuck, he’d known it since he first saw Ulaz’s blade, since he and Allura had taken a pod to try and isolate Zarkon’s means of tracking them. And he had been right. He really should have just chucked the damn knife into space. But he hadn’t been able to, hadn’t been able to let go of those who’d let go of him, all those years ago.

The Princess’ taut posture and lips pressed tight, white in repressed anger, said as much. The way she wouldn’t look at him, how she angled her stance so there’d be no question of catching him in the corner of her eye; the way she refused to say his name, even discuss Red’s behaviour—it all spoke to her emotion, and Keith couldn’t really blame her. Sure, he hadn’t known, but it all came down to the same result: she’d been working with her enemy for these past however many weeks, months. Red’s fury that Keith would even consider himself to be as bad as Zarkon did little to ease the anxiety, the tired resignation of one more rejection, of once again not being able to be returned when he had been deemed unwanted. It had only happened once, but it had been bad, and he had sworn _never again_ , that he’d run away before he let that happen. But he couldn’t do that here; couldn’t take Red from the team, couldn’t leave them unable to form Voltron, Princess’ anger or no. He needed to stop being so rash. He needed to stop thinking only of himself.

And right now, his presence wasn’t helping anything. In fact, as he watched Allura divide her attention between ignoring him and angrily focusing on Kolivan and the information he brought, Keith realized that it was harming what very much needed to happen. They needed that information and the help of the rebel Galra cell. So as Shiro eased the two Galra into discussions about what was to happen, what had been happening, and drew the others in as well, he muttered something about needing to check on Red (not that anyone would notice) and disappeared. He needed a shower and someplace safe.

He risked a look back as the door shut on him, noted the slight easing of ramrod shoulders. The knowledge that he was right was bittersweet, but at least this once, he had read things correctly.

Red was waiting for him when he arrived, already laid out on the ground instead of the customary upright position the Lions took. She arced around Keith, a tight knot of warmth and support and a promise that no one will disrupt this sanctuary. Keith almost agreed with the ban, but then…

“Shiro can come in,” he told her softly. “If he wants.”

There’s agreement from her buzzing through his mind with the flavouring that yes, the Black Paladin is _good_ and _trusted_ , more than the others are. And then amusement as Keith’s cheeks flare.

“Shut up,” he whispered. He’d relax fully into the Lion’s teasing, but then he remembered the trial and Shiro and what he’d said, what _Keith_ had said in return. Shiro had reassured him that everything Keith had seen after he’d escaped the Blades had been a hallucination created by the suit, but it was hard to get away from those words. Whose disappointment had he faced, his or Shiro’s? It was all so confusing, and his head was still too jumbled to even try and deal with it, or feelings that he had been comfortably ignoring in the desert and in the hectic fight against the Galra Empire.

It was hard not to flinch at the memory of Shiro: disappointed at his behaviour, the lecture as they travelled to the base, then standing to the side as the Blades tried to take his knife from him. Silent as Keith protested that the knife was his, but all too loud as what Shiro thought came out. Well, maybe not; it had been a hallucination, though the words had to have come from _somewhere_. But it didn’t matter; it was true enough. Secretive, selfish, reckless … he couldn’t trust anyone and wouldn’t talk, didn’t know how to work in a team. How many tries had it taken, before he could put Voltron before himself? How many countless individuals before two who were likely now just memories, if that?

A silent rumble from the Red Lion reverberated within Keith, waves of sound that, had they been from an smaller, live cat, would have been a purr. But it didn’t matter, the disjunction between here and Earth, because Red’s not-quite-purr was just as comforting as any cat, more so even, and it eased the anxiety enough to still the spiraling thoughts.

“What am I going to do Red?” he asked, screwing his eyes shut as he leaned his head back against the Lion’s bulk. He was tired , confused, and sore from the fight. There had been no major damage, just numerous small cuts that sapped strength but that could be resolved easily enough with the salve that closed superficial wounds almost as fast as he put it on. The only bad one had been to his shoulder, and that now had a compress with more of the salve on it. He had been exhausted from the fight, but once out of the suit, had regained his energy; perhaps that had been part of the test too.

But the Lion had no answers for him, only the soft feeling of _wait_. And, loathe as he was normally to stand still, right now Keith could think of nothing that sounded better.

Patience … focus. He had time for the first, quiet for the second. Waiting, gathering his focus, figuring out how _he_ felt… it wouldn’t be much, but it would let him stand eventually. And so long as he could stand, so long as he could fly, he’d be fine. He _would_.

* * *

 

Shiro saw Keith disappear and let him. He knew that Keith needed space to process what had happened on the Blade of Marmora’s base. Well, maybe not all of it; Coran was still exclaiming over how Red had reacted on her own, but Keith seemed to take the Lion’s actions as is. The Princess said nothing, but she couldn’t hide the way her eyebrows creased whenever Keith’s name was mentioned, the anger the roiled over the fact that not only were there two Galra on her ship, on the bridge even, but that one had apparently been hiding under her nose all along.

The fact that Keith had been unaware of his heritage, raised entirely by humans on Earth, not even a full-blooded Galra, seemed to be of little import.

Shiro let Keith go in part also because there were things _he_ needed to process. Like the way his heart had lurched, clenched in on itself, when he heard Keith shout at the figure the Red Paladin had thought was him. Of the almost crippling worry from watching Keith fight, lie helpless in the grip of the suit. But also the feeling of sharp hurt, that Keith didn’t trust him to tell him what was so obviously bothering him and that he had reacted poorly, lecturing Keith and not moving to protect him when Kolivan’s second attacked. The guilt and knowledge that he _should_ have; should have trusted Keith to know when he was ready to divulge. But hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Did Keith really think of him as such? He frowned, trying to keep his attention on what was happening, but finding it hard to focus. They seemed to be on practicalities of where the Galra would stay now though, so no need to pay much attention. How much did it matter if Keith did only think of him as a brother? When did that become _only_? He repressed a sigh, not wanting everyone’s attention on him. Although if he was being honest, it had always been only. Everyone used to talk about how he was a magnet for attention, for followers; but Keith had been the real magnet, the flame drawing the moth in an eternal looping pattern around its glow.

He can’t put words to the feeling that suddenly slides into his head, but it’s certainly amused.

He’s really glad he and Black have a strong bond now. He is. But right now, the Lion could just butt out and not confuse him even more. No luck though; all he gets is mild amusement for his pains, and no help whatsoever for the jumble his thoughts have become.

When Coran took the Galra to what would be their quarters and Hunk left to make food, Lance trailing behind hopefully, it was just him with the Princess and Pidge. Allura’s stance remained stiff, but after a minute she relaxed some. He could still see the anger, though, from what she considered a betrayal.

“It’s not his fault, you know,” Pidge told the Princess from her seat on the floor, screens surrounding her on three sides as she categorized the data that Kolivan had brought with him. “His parents never told him, if they ever knew.” He smiled a little, remembering Matt’s complaints on how protective his little sister could be; it looked like Pidge had decided that this ‘other older brother,’ as she had designated Keith, needed the same protection. He wondered if Keith had found out he’d been so dubbed, how he felt about it if he did.

Allura frowned, taut as a whip again as she opened her mouth to protest. But Pidge wasn’t paying attention to the Princess’ attempts to speak.

“No one’s born evil,” Pidge continued, not looking at the Princess as she focused on the calculations before her. “Genetics don’t really work that way. Society does, but not DNA. Besides,” she shrugged and finally looked up, face stubborn. “We’re all born from the same stardust.”

Snapping her jaw shut, Allura glared at Pidge before storming out of the room.

“Think she’ll come around?” Pidge asked after a moment, shutting down the screens absentmindedly as she looked pensively at where the princess had just exited. Shiro shrugged.

“I hope so,” he sighed. “For both her sake and Keith’s.”

“Me too.” Pidge stood, arcing her back in a long stretch as she did so. “I’m going to see if Lance and Hunk have left any food and then see if Kolivan is about.” He gave her a look at the tone, knowing it from his work with Matt and from Pidge’s own explorations into ‘science,’ and she grinned sheepishly. “Fine, I won’t bother him with questions about the Galra, even if it _is_ for science. Lance is right; you are _so_ the dad friend.” He sighed, resisted the urge to roll his eyes; of course Lance said that. “You going to look for Keith?”

“In a bit; he’ll be with Red.” She nodded; _of course_.

“Tell Keith what I told the Princess, will you?” Her voice was a little tentative, tinged with what he suspected was the memory of Keith’s outburst when she had planned on leaving.

_Everyone in the universe has families!_

But did they? As he watched Pidge depart, Shiro thought about just how little he knew about Keith. He knew that his father had disappeared, but not why. Knew nothing about Keith’s mother, hadn’t known about the knife. Hadn’t known it was special; Keith hadn’t really carried it around with him at Garrison (no surprise, considering weapons were strictly banned), and upon his return he had assumed it was just a regular blade, something Keith had taken to carrying around for protection or general use. Keith had never been one to talk about his past, give up much; he preferred to listen, or focus on the present, the future even, if he had to talk.

But Keith’s shadowy past had never been an issue before; it was the present that connected them, a love of flying, a need to cut the air, the challenge they posed to one another. Family had never come into it, for either of them. Why had he been such an idiot? Shiro blew out a frustrated sigh. It wasn’t like he was without sin, in fact it was one big case of the pot calling the kettle black. He had his own dark past to worry about, and worry he did, mostly in silence and in the increasingly cluttered privacy of his own mind. He shared as little as he could get away with; everyone had so much to handle, on their own, and he couldn’t bring himself to add to it. So why had it been such a big deal that Keith had decided to deal with the revelations the same way?

 _I’m so tired_ , he thought bleakly. _I want my life back. And my friend. I want …_ But he couldn’t finish that thought and veered away from it.

He found Keith later, as expected, with Red. And Red’s position would have been just as expected, if Shiro had thought about it at all: the Lion had just attacked a rebel Galra stronghold for Keith; lying down to form a protected, private place to rest would have cost nothing. But it _meant_ everything.

Shiro wondered if, should he drag the Princess down right now, force her to see how Red felt about Keith, how she would do _anything_ to keep him safe, if that would change anything. He sighed quietly; probably not in her current temper. Maybe later. So instead of leaving to try and force Allura to see _Keith_ and not the _Galra_ that lingered in his blood, Shiro moved closer to Red, walking around until he found the middle of the arc, where the Lion’s tail wrapped around beside its great head.

“Am I—” Movement stopped him, an opening making itself visible without his question needing to be voiced, in full at least. He decided to take Red’s behaviour as a good sign, whether for Red’s thoughts about him or Keith’s mood, or both, he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t really matter in the end.

“Hey,” he said softly as he took a seat close to Keith. It was warm in this part of the hanger, and he wondered absently whether it was because of Red. Certainly the Lion’s metal surface was warmer than Black’s. Keith smiled weakly back at him, but didn’t speak. “How are you doing?”

Keith shrugged, frowned when Shiro reminded him that such a thing as words exist, and for a reason. Normally he got an exasperated eye roll, or a punch in the arm, for that comment, and so he changed course accordingly, giving Keith an option out.

“You don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to,” Shiro promised, trying to control the concern that was growing in the pit of his stomach. The memory of Keith fighting _too many_ Galra, of lying on the ground, injured and in the grip of that goddamn suit… He forced the memories away, concentrated on the moment at hand. “But, did you get everything tended to? Your shoulder?”

That got Keith talking as, nodding, he said he had. “Most weren’t so bad. Shoulder’s got one of those weird suture pads on it.” He paused, then looked down at his hands. “How’s everyone else?” he asked quietly.

“I think Coran’s more shocked at Red than you,” Shiro said honestly, sighing as he leaned back against Red, looking up to the ceiling. “Not the flying on her own part since she almost flattened him the last time, but the attacking. Hunk’s doing his obsessing thing, but he’s making food now, so hopefully that’ll calm him down. Lance was going on about how you just had to steal the centre of attention, since he was so much better in the mall than you.” Keith snorted a little, and Shiro smiled for a moment. “Princess… well.” He sighed and shrugged. “But Pidge told her, and told me to tell you, that it’s not your fault and doesn’t matter because you weren’t raised by the Galra. She pulled out the Olkari saying and all.” He caught Keith’s incredulous look and smiled reassuringly. “The news was a bit of a shock, yes, but we all know you’re still _you_.”

“All but one,” Keith amended, and Shiro winced, but he had to admit the truth in it. To his promise that Allura would come around, Keith just snorted, shook his head. Shiro knew that look; it was the one Keith had held when Shiro first met him, fresh from being passed around for being _not right_. “I don’t get it,” Keith admitted finally, frustration colouring his voice. “Everything has changed; why, why would …” He waved one of his hands in the air, unable to get the words out and trying to expel some of the emotion.

“Not the important things Keith,” Shiro corrected softly. “Those are still the same, still there. And Keith,” he swallowed, guilt drying his throat. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you to handle things, not lecture you. I should have stood up for you from the beginning, and I’m so sorry I didn’t. ”

Keith looked shocked, shook his head, didn’t seem able to accept the apology for whatever reason.

“I know you wouldn’t have taken the knife if it didn’t belong to you,” he continued, staring ahead. “And I should have said so.”

There had been an attempt at a scandal, Keith framed for stealing test cheating codes, back at Garrison. But he hadn’t needed to steal anything, as he furiously proved, walking into a flight sim unprepared for the course and shattering the record out of adrenaline and furious indignation. Shiro had barely known Keith then, but he had been one of the few to support Cadet Kogane.

“It’s ok Shiro,” Keith whispered. “Like you said, it was a shock.”

“That doesn’t excuse what I did, or said,” he countered. “You’ve always been here for me. The least I owe you is the same.”

“You’re here now,” Keith’s voice softened, “And you were on the base too.”

He smiled, held Keith’s gaze, “I wanted to make sure you know you don’t have to go this alone.” Shock was back on Keith’s face, but it’s suffused with relief.

“You got stuck in your head, didn’t you?” Keith’s bark of bitter laughter was answer enough, and the corner of Shiro’s mouth  quirked up, wry humour in knowing he was correct. “It sucks not knowing if your past is going to take over, doesn’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” Keith groaned. “How do you handle it? I thought I was going to go crazy.”

“I don’t, at least not in a healthy fashion,” Shiro admitted wryly, dark humour surfacing fully. “And I’m pretty sure I’m a step away from going mad myself.”

“We can have a tea party then.” He laughed at Keith’s wry tone, “Yeah, we can. It’ll be fun.”

Keith’s returning grin spoke of shared conspiracy, inside jokes. “We’re already mad, aren’t we?” To which Shiro could only shrug helplessly, eyes crinkling in amusement and _probably?_

“Course Catch-22 would say we’re sane,” Keith quipped.

“Yeah; good thing I’m going to die of pneumonia and will get out of this.” He laughed as Keith punched him in the arm, the force of the blow diminished by the awkward angle.

“You have the _worst_ sense of humor,” Keith grumbled.

“Better than ‘at least I’ll have a lot to look at if I get lost,’ though, right?”  Keith gave him a witheringly exasperated look.

“Worse even than Lance’s dumb jokes.” Shiro just laughed, a weight gone, happy to fall into a familiar pattern of teasing and jokes. Keith’s smile was begrudging at first, but it grew and things began to feel normal again.

Well, maybe not normal. Maybe a new normal, a better one.

* * *

 

It felt so good to be talking to Shiro again, have him back on his side. He wouldn’t say so out loud, but Shiro’s actions on the base had hurt hard.  Hopes and fears, that’s what Kolivan had said the suit showed him, which explained the vision of Shiro he had seen. And his father…

“I wonder if my dad knew about the knife,” he mused absently out loud, catching Shiro’s attention. “He hammered into me that I needed to take care of it, that I couldn’t let anyone take it from me once he said I was old enough to take care of it.”

Shiro didn’t say anything at first, just digested the information. “It sounds like he knew something at least, if he was that careful. That shack… was that where you lived?”

He laughed humorlessly at Shiro hesitant question. “At the end, yeah. Dad was an engineer at one of Garrison’s tertiary bases, other side of the desert from the main base. At least, that’s what they said when I got the letter inviting me to apply since he had been a former employee; there’s a special application stream or something. Once he lost his job, we moved into whatever he could afford on his odd jobs. Then he found the shack and we squatted there for a while.” He smiled ruefully at a memory. “He didn’t want to get too far from the desert. It was the epicenter, he said.”

“Epicenter?” Keith grinned wryly as he looked over, _aliens_ the answer to Shiro’s question. “You have got to be kidding,” Shiro stated, shock and disbelief thick.

“Nope,” he sighed. “Thought he was bonkers after he disappeared and I was put into care. Now it doesn’t seem so crazy.” After all, it was hard to argue with the idea of aliens visiting Earth right now; Blue had to have gotten there somehow, and apparently he was part Galra. Coran hadn’t been so certain that any Galra visiting Earth would have left it unscathed, but if they were rebels, or even refugees, Keith was willing to bet they would have preferred to fit in and hide over ransack and destroy. And perhaps he hadn’t always thought his father had been nuts. Those months out in the desert, chasing Blue’s trail… he’d have been willing to believe in aliens then.

“He’d tell me these stories…” his eyes went distant, memories surfacing that he hadn’t thought about in years. “About a faraway kingdom, where a king tried to save his people from this monster that wanted to take over the kingdom. Every night he had to face some challenge, or see his kingdom destroyed, and somehow, he managed it every time. I’d ask for them every night; they were my favourite.” His voice had gone wistful, wanting those days again, but he knew it could never happen.

“They sound like good stories,” Shiro offered. “You must have been close.”

“He was my hero. He taught me everything he knew,” Keith sighed, tipping his head back. “But then… well. Something changed. He stopped telling the stories, he just… I dunno. It was like he would disappear, but he’d be in the same room with me. Or worse, like I wasn’t there. And then one day he was gone, just a note saying he needed to figure something out and he might be back someday.”

“Shit, Keith,” Shiro breathed, eyes wide, “I’m sorry. That’s… I don’t know if there’s a word for that.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He stared at the ceiling, remembering too many homes with too many children, foster parents who didn’t care, either from over-work or greed. Too many who preached care but turned a blind eye.

“They mess us up, our parents,” Shiro said after a moment, his tone subdued. Keith snorted, could only agree.

“All I wanted was to make mine proud.” It was now Shiro’s turn to go distant, a slight frown on his face as he stared ahead. “I remember the day I got a B- in chemistry.” He laughed bleakly. “I couldn’t take the disappointment, or the lectures on focus and hard work; hid in my room for days, just studying until I couldn’t stay awakey. It was a relief to get to Garrison, where I was someone new, no expectations. At first, at least.” His lips quirked. “My brother followed our father into the army. He was the good son.” And oh, the story behind those five words that lingered in his subdued tone.

“You’re the best pilot Garrison’s put out,” Keith protested. “Surely?” Shiro shrugged, a wry, bleak smile on his face. “I don’t know; we didn’t talked much once I joined Garrison. And now,” he sighed, “Well. No longer disappointing them at least.”

Keith knew that tone, not from Shiro, but from others. And while he knew that it affected everyone differently, he still gave into to the prompt that had him hesitantly ask, “Shiro, with your family’s expectations and school… you didn’t … ?” He couldn’t manage to get the words to phrase the question, but Shiro caught the meaning anyways. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes; too brittle to do so.

“No, but I thought about it a few times. I was lucky; school counselor figured it out and was able to help.”

Keith reached out and gripped Shiro’s shoulder, knowing there really wasn’t anything he could say. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “There’s not really a word for that either.”

Shiro smiled sadly, “No, there really isn’t. But thanks Keith.” He tightened his grip briefly in response, then let go, squashing the feeling that demanded he do more.

They sat there, caught in their own pasts, waiting for the fog to clear.

“I should have told you what was going on,” Keith admitted finally. “But so many people tried to take that knife from me when I was a kid, and it’s all I have left. It was the one thing that was mine, not hand-me-down, not borrowed.” He didn’t say how much he still had wanted to find his family, still processing his decision to turn his back on those who had originally abandoned him. “I guess I thought that if I didn’t tell anyone, it would be ok. But then I kept having these nightmares where Zarkon was using me to get to you guys, and…” He shook his head, shrugged, not sure how to finish.

“You were afraid that the nightmares would become reality,” Shiro offered. “I get it Keith, I really do.” He can hear the tired pain in that bald statement, and Keith suddenly remembers the night the Galra crystal took over, the night Shiro dropped Sendak into space and then spent days trying to repress the nightmares. “And I’m sorry I didn’t notice something more was going on than normal stress; of all the people, I should have been able to.” He frowned, eyes distant and memory catching his attention. “I should have known better than to lecture you too, that it never helps.”

“Not your fault Shiro,” he countered, getting a ghost of a smile in return. “And you know you don’t have to go this alone either, right?” A genuine smile stretched out now, and relief; Keith wasn’t sure if Shiro had been willing to assume that fact, not until Keith voiced it, but he seemed just as glad that Keith had as Keith had been when Shiro told him the same. “Just… can you please stop acting like you’re going to die tomorrow? Because you’re _not._ ”

Shiro’s laugh was bitter, helpless, bleak. “Sorry Keith,” he whispered. “Yeah, I’ll try. It’s a coping mechanism; if everything will move on without me, I can’t mess it up, right? I know it’s not a great one.” His tone was apologetic, and Keith felt some of his earlier annoyance at Shiro’s insistence that Keith was to take over if something happened to him fade.

“It’s just,” he sighed, feeling he owed Shiro an explanation. “It feels like you’ve given up when you talk like that. Like we don’t matter.” He couldn’t say _I_ , and neither mentioned that Shiro never descended into dark humor or depression when the others were around. A line, it would seem, neither could cross.

“You do matter,” Shiro protested softly, and he felt the urge to demand, _who? Me? All of us?_ But he kept quiet. “But sometimes, I get so tired, I wonder how bad it could be just to fall, give up.” Keith pushed himself up, an angry retort on his lips. But the furious, supportive rumble from Black and Red drowned him out, and startled Shiro enough that he too jerked forward.

“I think they said it all,” Keith said firmly, face intent. “But if I need to translate that, I will. You matter too Shiro; don’t you _dare_ forget that.” A question hovered on Shiro’s lips, but he swallowed it in favour of a weak smile and shrugged _I’ll try_.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Shiro raised an eyebrow. “I’ll actually think about this whole… leading Voltron if something happens.” The words were ashes in his mouth, but if this was Shiro’s goddam coping mechanism, he’d have to work with it. “But you have to stop thinking about yourself as expendable.”

He couldn’t put words to the expression on Shiro’s face, but he hoped it was a good sign.

“I think that’s a good deal,” Shiro whispered, smiling slowly. “And I’ll do my best to hold to it.”

“Good.” The smile broadened at Keith’s tone, firm and relieved, committed. He might not like the implications of his end, but they were a hard truth. Zarkon’s search for the Lions, ability to control Black reinforced it. For whatever else Voltron was, it was a _weapon_ , to be wielded and handed over to the next when its wielders could no longer fight, for whatever reason. And the story of Keith’s life betrayed another hard certainty, that life had no sureties.

“Think you can make another deal with me?” Shiro asked after a moment. “You let me know if you get caught up in your head, even if you don’t want to, or can’t, talk about it?”

“And you do the same?” Keith finished, eyebrow raised. “Think we can keep each other sane?” Shiro laughed; “As much as we can, yeah, I do. Deal?”

“Deal.” At least this one came with fewer unsettled feelings that by making the deal, he had set something in motion. Because Shiro _wasn’t_ going anywhere, not if he could help it.

“This is going to become a competition, isn’t it?” Shiro asked wryly after a few minutes. “Which of us can keep better tabs on the other?”

“Please,” he retorted, grinning. “We already know I’m going to win.” He laughed as Shiro shoved him, grinning and calling him a brat. It felt good, almost normal. Like old times, even.

He feels safe, here in the hanger with Red and Shiro. He’s not sure what’s going to happen once he leaves, but right now, he doesn’t care to dwell on that, or the war happening outside. So sue him if that makes him selfish; he’ll take this moment.

“You’re not selfish, you know.” Shiro grinned in triumph as Keith accused him of being a mind reader. “Thought that’s what you were zoning out on. Honestly Keith, you’re the last person I’d accuse of that. Headstrong, reckless, and stubborn, yes.” He dodged the swipe Keith took at him, laughing at the _asshole_ thrown his way. “But not selfish.”

“I just about ruined our one chance for solid allies against Zarkon, in case you’ve forgotten,” he pointed out, not sure if he believed Shiro enough to put that ghost to rest, but thankful that he hadn’t had to bring it up himself.

“Even so,” Shiro insisted. “Everyone has a right to know their past, if they want to. I mean,” he smiled ruefully, “I dragged everyone to Ulaz’s base because of a hunch and because I needed to know what had happened on Zarkon’s ship. And what nearly happened there would have been far worse than what could have happened here, even with Red almost blowing up the base.

“You’re also allowed to keep things to yourself,” Shiro continued as Keith thought on his words. “You don’t have to tell everyone everything if you don’t want to.” There was an apology in those words, and a self-reminder on Shiro’s  part. “Just remember that you define who you are, not your past.”

He wanted to argue, but he also knew that it was the anxiety talking and that Shiro was willing to fight him until they were both too exhausted to continue; he knew the tone. So he just smiled as best he could and promised to do his best to remember that.

“You remember that too,” he insisted. “And you know, you’ve always been there for me too. I meant what I said, back on that planet we crashed on, Shiro; my life would’ve been a lot different if it wasn’t for you.”

“Ah yes, you mean not fighting some galactic war and almost getting yourself killed how many times now?” A smile quirked as Keith sighed in exasperation. “You’d have managed without me, Keith, but thanks,” Shiro countered, and Keith ached to take away the feelings of worthlessness that gave voice to that line. But he didn’t know how, really, so he just shook his head, gave voice to what he’d kept inside the last time they’d had this conversation, for fear that it would be too much.

“Maybe, but I don’t know if I’d like who I would have become. I was lost, Shiro, and so angry.” He sighed. “Everyone I met, they acted like they already knew me, what I would do, how I would act. They expected me to act out; some even set me up for it, and I fell, every damn time.” He can feel the frustration creeping into his voice, and he paused, took a moment to focus and let it pass. That period of his life was gone now.

“People meet the expectations that are set for them,” Shiro said quietly, and Keith could only nod. “You were the first to set high ones,” Keith admitted, “In a long time. And the first not to pigeon-hole me. It may not seem like a lot, but it was.”

The smile on Shiro’s face was slow to come, but it’s full of a whole mix of emotions, good and bad. And that made sense, because Shiro knew about being pigeon-holed, just from the other side of the spectrum, and Keith knew it was bad for the golden children, just as it was for the problem kids like him. Fewer traps and pitfalls than for the problem children, but oh how far they have to fall. And the fall from Kerberos was very far indeed.

“It goes both ways,” Shiro pointed out. “You were the first to treat me like an actual human being in a long time.” Keith could only smile at that, because it was a good memory. “You mean hand your ass to you on the training floor?” he teased, and Shiro laughed, full and pleased, as he denied that Keith had managed any such thing. It had been the gossip of the day, swiftly followed by the friendship between two whom no one would have stuck together, had anyone asked.

“Do you miss those days?” Keith asked after a moment, smile still playing on his lips.

“Sometimes,” Shiro admitted, smiling sadly. “Things were simpler then. You?”

“Until I remember Iverson.” Surprised laughter erupted from Shiro. “You laugh, but I couldn’t _stand_ him at the end.”

“You couldn’t stand him from the _beginning_ ,” Shiro corrected, teasing. “I can probably recite your complaints in my sleep now.” Keith rolled his eyes, but refrained from commenting.

“I finally punched him,” he offered instead, laughing recklessly at Shiro’s groan. “That was the final straw, as far as the brass was concerned.”

“Any particular reason?”

Keith winced; Shiro was going to _hate_ this. “I wanted to see if it really was pilot error that caused the Kerberos mission to go south.” Yep; there it was: Shiro’s lips compressed into a tight line, and Keith could see the lecture being held in. “I didn’t think it could be; I mean, you had that textbook memorized, but,” he shrugged, “anyone can make mistakes, right? But really, I thought that it was a mechanical error or something, and they wanted to keep it quiet.”

“I’m still shocked you and Pidge hadn’t met at a conspiracy theorists anonymous meeting,” Shiro deadpanned. Keith elected to ignore the comment, a choice that did not go unnoticed by Shiro’s amused half-smile.

“Went through all the possible variations, conditions, everything, flying by the rules as best I could. And nothing. Iverson didn’t appreciate me telling him so, or my attempt to make the test flights public. I lost it in the middle of the lecture.”

Shiro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before relaxing into a loud sigh and leaning back to look up at the ceiling. “Why?” he asked finally.

“They were going to send another mission out to Kerebos, Shiro,” he closed his eyes and leaned back himself, opening them only to stare bleakly ahead. “I was talking to one of the pilots they had shortlisted, and the training was exactly the same as you used to complain about. And I just … I guess it made me angry, that they would even think of doing that without trying to even learn what had gone wrong. Or that something else had happened, and they weren’t telling anyone, because that’s _always_ worked out.” Actually, if he was being honest, he’d been furious that Garrison would so blatantly put more people in danger.

“Bureaucrats are bureaucrats, no matter what uniform they wear,” Shiro sighed. “They probably saw no problem in sending out another mission just to see what happened, without telling anyone why.” Keith nodded; it was an unfortunate, though familiar, truth. “You know, for someone who is so worried about being selfish or turning bad, you have the straightest moral compass of anyone I’ve met.”

He didn’t know what to say, just stared at Shiro in shock. Shiro grinned, though it turned wry as he continued speaking. “Reckless and headstrong, but straighter than a die. And I hope you gave Iverson one hell of a black eye.”

“Oh yeah,” Keith grinned, recovering. “I got him good; it was still swollen shut at my disciplinary review a few days later.”

“Good; he’s had that coming for a while.” Shiro gave him a conspiratorial grin, one Keith only too happily returned. Iverson had had it coming after all.

* * *

 

Back in Garrison, he and Keith would stay up late on occasion, talking, complaining about coursework (or instructors) in Keith’s case, training (endless) in his, or just to have a quiet moment in the hectic world of Garrison’s main base. Shiro considered those some of his happiest moments of his tenure at Garrison, time spent when he could relax and not worry so much about stepping out of line. With Keith, he didn’t feel so much like he had to live up to expectations, the image of the perfect future stretching out before him. In school, then Garrison, no one had believed his doubts; worries about doing well on a test were always met with a laugh and _you’ll be fine; you always breeze through exams_. Sure, the confidence in his abilities was nice, but he’d do without the anxiety those comments had set off: another group to disappoint if he fell. But Keith had met his offhand comment about nerves before a flight test with a serious earnestness, taking the complaint as genuine and not an attempt to ‘fit in,’ and Shiro had felt himself opening up further to the reckless cadet that so many had written off.

This evening felt like those past nights, a piece of the past and normalcy intruding into the depths of foreign space. Except, of course, for the fact that they had actually fallen asleep there, surrounded by Red’s protective embrace and her metal side as support and pillow, which was about as comfortable as one would expect.

“I feel old,” Shiro complained as they stood, moving stiffly and trying to stretch out the knots from sleeping upright against a metal Lion. Keith snorted, refrained from making the obvious old joke, though laughter danced on his face.

“Think the others are awake?” he asked instead, nerves peeking through. Shiro shrugged, eyed the clock by the hangar doors. “If anyone is, it’ll be because Pidge didn’t sleep last night. Or maybe Kolivan and Antok. I have no idea what Galra sleep schedules are,” he mused. “Want to grab some food? Then think you’re up to a little sparring? How’s your shoulder?”

“Please,” Keith snorted. “The day I can’t keep up with you is the day I let Lance try to pilot Red. And it’s fine.”

Shiro laughed, leading the way out of the hangar as Red’s indignant rumble echoed behind them.

“How do you feel about it all?” he asked as they walked through hallways quiet in the dim light of early ‘morning.’ “The being part-Galra.”

Keith shrugged. “At first, I didn’t want to believe it. Especially with those nightmares. But now? Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Not all Galra are bad, and it’s not like I’ve had anything descent-wise go my way, as far as society’s concerned.” Bitter humour marred Keith’s tone before he sighed and shook his head. “Still getting used to it, but once I do, I’ll be fine, promise.” He offered a wry smile. “Trying to think about it like being Asian. Affects what I look like, not who I am”

Shiro smiled. “You’re amazing, you know that? Not everyone would be able to say that.”

Keith coloured, and Shiro’s smile softened.

“You know,” he admitted quietly as they entered the kitchen. “Back at Garrison, I always wished I could be more like you.”

Keith paused in getting glasses of water and the Altean version of coffee to stare in shock. “Shiro, people _hated_ me back at Garrison.”

He snorted. “They were jealous Keith, mostly of your skill, but your confidence as well. Most cadets, and a lot of the officers, bluster to hide their insecurities.”

“Explains Lance,” Keith cut in, grabbing for the drinks again, and Shiro laughed as he pulled out the prepared meals Hunk had taken to making (and usually eating as well).

“With more malice than Lance, but yes. But you always seemed to know what you could do, never doubted if you could accomplish something; you just did it. Then and now. And, well, I admired your ability to do so, still do.” Keith had coloured again, had decided to focus on poking at his food rather than looking at Shiro. He smiled, took a few sips of his not-coffee (which was a slightly off-putting shade of sludge red) to give them both a moment. “I wanted to be more confident in myself, be better, because of you.”

Keith looked up, a smile tugging on his lips as well. “Goes both ways Shiro.” Now it was his turn to colour, try to hide his smile behind his drink because he knew it wasn’t flattering and would betray too many feelings that he was still trying to process and couldn’t risk coming out. But Keith had gone back to focusing on his meal, and they finished eating in a companionable silence. Shiro couldn’t tell for sure, but it felt like something had shifted, changed, between them. He set it aside; he could pull it out again later to analyze and agonize over.

They took it easy on the training deck, moving to clear their heads and stretch out muscles cramped from a night in the hangar more than anything else. When they broke for a moment, Keith pulled out the knife and stared at it thoughtfully. Shiro eyed it as well.

“Think you could use your other hand for that?” he asked, and Keith frowned in thought before shrugging; maybe. “Might be an idea. You should also practice with the full blade.”

“Yeah, get used to it.” Keith’s face was pensive. “I suppose the short blade could be used in place of a shield. Didn’t before because I was worried about the blade breaking; don’t suppose that’s really an issue though. Think there’s a training program for it?”

“Worth a look.”

Kolivan and Antok found them working through the training program; Shiro noticed them standing on the other side of the door, silent and impassive as they waited for Keith to finish running through the sequence with the trainer. As the program ended and the robot disappeared into the floor, they entered. Keith eyed them silently.

“If you are going to wield that blade,” Kolivan said without preamble, “You need to be able to awaken it on command. Antok will teach you.” Shiro thought that Antok would rather be doing anything else, but it was hard to tell with the face guard.

“You will need to leave,” Kolivan said to Shiro, and Keith’s lips narrowed.

“No,” he pronounced. “If Shiro wants, he stays.” For his part, Shiro lifted an eyebrow and returned Kolivan’s stare; he would stay. He wasn’t leaving Keith alone with the Blades again, alliance or no alliance.

Kolivan raised an eyebrow. “Knowledge or death, and only after the trial. He has not passed. That is our way.”

“It is not mine,” Keith countered. “You want to teach me? Fine. But I will not follow rules I do not agree with.” _Not anymore_ , lingering in his defiant tone. “Shiro stays. And _I,_ ” Keith’s eyes narrowed in challenge, “will pass on what I learn. Those are my terms; if you don’t agree, don’t teach me.”

Shiro held a smile back; here, at least, Keith was back in old form. Antok looked over at Kolivan, who, after regarding Keith steadily for another moment, nodded.

“You are going to be an aggravating student,” Antok stated, causing Shiro to grin, amused, and Keith to smirk. Truer words had never been spoken.

He watched from the sidelines as Antok moved through the use of the blade, of the concentration needed to shift it from knife to sword and back. The fluid movements that marked the Blade of Marmora’s preferred style of fighting needed to be adapted to suit Keith’s human frame, but he picked them up easily enough. Not that that was a surprise; Keith took to fighting like a fish to water.

The other Paladins arrived about halfway through Keith’s lesson with  Antok for their morning training, and Shiro turned his attention to directing them, setting Pidge against first Hunk and then the trainer and then Lance, rotating them through the different exercises.  Every so often he would check in on Keith, until he called a halt to Antok’s lesson with time to let Keith catch his breath before the group sequences.

Kolivan offered Antok’s services as an opponent, and Shiro wondered if the second had displeased the Blades’ leader. Or if something else was going on; either way, Antok took it in stride. Kolivan called out injuries and offered a blunt summation of how all six fared, Antok included. Usually that was the Princess’ job, but though she was watching the training from the viewing platform, she remained silent. Still angry. At least they did better than they had against Ulaz; Keith had shared what he learned from his lesson with Antok, and they’d gotten better at moving as a team since then.  

“It is a good thing you have the Lions,” Kolivan commented as they broke up. Lance rolled his eyes, muttering something about how they’d been doing just fine, thank you. Pidge eyed Kolivan and then started going through the calculations. Of how long a Blade had to train before they were at the current level the Paladins were, or, from Allura’s earlier complaint, an Altean child. And then how long they had all been training, changing it all to vargans and, upon getting the equivalent from Kolivan, the time in Galran hours.

“I think I’m just going to let her go,” Shiro said quietly as they watched Pidge continue her lecture, following Kolivan and Antok as they left the training deck.

“Yeah…” Hunk looked mildly terrified. “She’s scary when she’s like that.”

“Gotta have breakfast,” Lance asserted airily. “It’s the most important meal of the day.” He then turned to eye Keith, who was watching the departing figures, massively mismatched in size, with an amused half-smile on. “So… you being Galra and all. You gonna turn purple anytime soon?”

Keith glared at Lance, who was grinning, clearly pleased with his question. “Really? This is your concern?”

“Cause if you—”

“Lance.”

“Pffft, fine. Just saying. I mean –”

“ _Lance._ ”

“Geez,” Lance muttered, scowling as Keith’s face shifted from annoyed to amused at Lance’s expense. “Knew _dad_ would pick favourites.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “You keep calling me that, and I’ll start assigning you chores, _without_ an allowance.”

Hunk burst out laughing, while Keith settled for a smirk. “Come on man,” Hunk laughed, clapping a pouting Lance on the back. “I’m starving, and the experiment should be ready.” Lance’s mood changed instantly, and they left, happily debating what Hunk’s latest culinary experiment would taste like. He turned to see Keith watching them, face pensive. Neither commented on the fact that before yesterday, there would have been another invitation made.

“I’m ok,” he said when he saw Shiro watching him. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy.” He sighed, but nodded; Keith was right. A glance up to the viewing platform told him it was empty, and he turned his gaze back down to follow Keith’s down the empty hallway.

“C’mon. We should probably rescue Kolivan and get Pidge to eat something.”

“I need to thank her,” Keith added, setting out down the hallway in step with Shiro. “She didn’t need to stand up to Allura for me.”

“She’s got a protective streak,” Shiro offered as an explanation. “Matt used to complain about it.” Keith snorted, but didn’t disagree.

“He’s lucky to have her as a sister,” Keith said softly, and Shiro thought he detected a note of wistfulness.

 “You are too,” Shiro  said, smiling at Keith’s confused look. “She’s adopted you; better watch out.” The surprise and happiness on Keith’s face was a moment of joy that Shiro knew he would never forget, and his smile broadened.

“Course this means you have to make her actually sleep at least some nights.”

Keith laughed, darting out of Shiro’s reach as he retorted, “Thought that was your job, _dad_.”  

“Brat,” Shiro grinned as they head down the hall. Keith just snickered, shrugged _and?_

They found Pidge scowling at Kolivan, whose normally impassive face betrayed some level of bewilderment. Keith gripped her shoulders and started steering her away, pushing her towards the kitchen and food, an amused smile on his face. Shiro was about to follow, when the Princess’ voice stopped them all.

“Shiro, we need to talk.” Her taunt face, stiff stance, suggested what it would be about. Pidge lost her scowl, looked back to Keith and then to Shiro.

“We’ll see you down there,” Keith said before either she or Shiro could speak. “Remember that you need to eat as well.” He nodded, watched them leave down the hallway. Allura turned into the bridge, door hissing shut behind Shiro; Kolivan left in the hall, free to go wherever he wished.

“Yes Princess?”

“It’s about Keith.” He restrained the sigh; of course it was. “Back when we were all separated, and you said that Keith would take over if you became too injured to fight, I agreed.” He knew where this was going, decided not to let her finish. Best, for when she got over her anger, if the words were never uttered.

“I’m not changing my mind; Keith will still take over if something happens to me.” His tone was firm, would brook no argument. “And what’s more,” he continued, eyes narrowing. “Black agrees with me.”

Allura pursed her lips, refrained from pointing out Black’s relationship with Zarkon.

“Keith’s the only one who kept his head when you were captured,” Shiro pointed out softly. “And Black has already let him fly. Whatever you think of the Galra, Keith is the best choice. He will see everyone home safe. And if you can’t see that right now, when you could earlier, you may want to reconsider who you’re angry with and why.”

“They killed my people! My _father!_ ” she burst out, eyes flashing with emotion no longer able to be contained.

“Zarkon did, yes,” Shiro whispered. “And I’m sorry. I really am. But _Keith_ had no part in that. And there is a saying on Earth, that it is our choices that show what we truly are. And Keith’s have always been for the good of this team.” Well, maybe not always; but Keith’s decision to hang on to the blade had worked out in the end, and since the Princess didn’t know how Keith’s ownership of the knife had come up… best not to mention it now, if ever.

He could see the adrenaline, the nerves, that coursed through her body, the anger that was barely being kept in check.

“I’m going to join Keith and Pidge for lunch; would you like to join?” he asked, knowing what the answer would be but also needing to make the offer. He didn’t like the fissures, knew they weren’t healthy for the team and for their chances.

Allura shook her head stiffly. “I already ate. Go; I’ll see you all here in two vargans for a mission briefing.”

Nodding, Shiro turned and left. She’d come around, eventually.

He passed Antok on his way to find the others. The Blade looked at him steadily for a moment before speaking.

“You are all a mess.” Shiro raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But somehow, you may just do this.”

“Thank you?” But Antok had started moving again and didn’t respond. Shiro stared before he shook his head and smiled. High praise from a Galra, and a Blade at that. Maybe they could do it. Maybe they could defeat Zarkon, and go home.

Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> Shiro's (bad) joke about dying from pneumonia is also from Catch-22. And yes, he quotes Dumbledore.


End file.
